Programming all day on the Commodore
64 produces a mediocre score.
Such a step down from war-room machines
with tape reels, punch cards, and eerie green screens;
the dot matrix printers hammering glyphs,
zipping out reams: my reluctance to shift
toward digital homes, from analogue
continuity—the move from prologue
of gigantic boxes of vacuum tubes
to pocket phones replacing mainframe rooms.
The information age grows like kudzu:
resistance futile, chips in any purview.
From punch cards of Babbage to Turing-complete;
to a world-wide net of nothing discrete.
Great! Information now, not later;
but look out for the Terminator.
BUT THAT’S ALL OVER.
A teenager in high school, Anne puts the lost time behind her, presses on, despite the occasional nightmares; gets a boyfriend, social network, after-school activities.
[Thirty-nine lunar months]
The tentacles of darkness reappear with a vengeance, worldwide—the sun struggles to make day known. Not in a vacuum, Anne surges with a feeling of oneness with the world.
The fight is apocalyptic, a real Revelations light show. Earth is saved. The darkness is plugged back into the Chaos manifold. Anne stops glowing.
Later, Anne wonders why the shadow wants out of the nighttime.
ANNE DOES NOT RECALL ESCAPING the inconstant mass, a visible darkness connected to original Chaos. Notwithstanding amnesia, she feels a general uneasiness.
Still being Anne proves great resolve; she will never be a little girl again. However, the name is all she remembers.
Later though, she dreams of being hunted by something tearing through the night, unholy. It works quickly breaking through the barricades of her mind for entry, finally getting through. A single tear is all Anne has time for.
Anne inside the murkiness that disdains other agencies, locks hers away, the last vestige against the tightening dark arms.
THIS IS THE THIRD TIME. It blobs into the dimension medusa-like, not as amorphous, but still black as a clouded new moon.
Anne knows this time she will not just think it away like before. The ooze strengthens with each incarnation. She senses determination, consciousness–before there was only unfocused malevolence.
Anne assumes a stance of power, asserts, “I’m not afraid of you,” as the convolving tentacles fire. It snatches the child into its darkness.
Anne, amnesic, steps from the nor’easter blizzard shadows onto her moonlit yard. Home. Anne’s mind, now, has become the stronger of the two.
⅔ of 20 Questions
seeding, rooting, oxygenating
chlorophyll foodstuff. Eukaryotic movers:
breathing, metabolizing, reproducing
Inorganic Chemistry with a Twist
killing, sleeping, resting
casket earth. Womb light:
awakening, rising, beholding;
Capping the Middle-Ground
contrasting, inviting, defining
photon noise. Aether grave:
expanding, swallowing, erasing;
Sensation of Floating in Spacetime
unending, framing, curving—
breathing room. Interval dimension:
sequencing, ticking, flowing
Beans or stones
from parts unknown,
to wire slides in
frames of bamboo;
place value a priori
O dusty board
of grid-crossed lines:
across parallel bones
and Heaven in
living fossils of
core functions of
The world has been created before.
Omnipotence can be quite a bore;
Like onion shells—level by level:
Dogwood, Dobermann, and the Devil;
Just like the steps of stairs:
From OM in the ground of all being,
The eye in the darkness, all-seeing,
Involution led to fire & sparks,
A cycle of rivers and rain . . .
THE BIG BANG !
Laughter of God in the vacuum
Remembering how to fill the room,
Creation is comic tragedy.
Why are all these stars past the sky-blue ?
That is why there is a me
and a you.